


you didn't always sing it right (but who could call you wrong?)

by kiwiibiird



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Light Angst, M/M, Makeup, Paper football is intense y'all, Roadtrip, Teasing, sooo fluffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27977169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiibiird/pseuds/kiwiibiird
Summary: “Whatcha doing?” Pope asked as JJ shuffled up in the sand, and even in the dim light of the sunset, JJ could see Pope’s smile clear as day.“Admiring the view.” JJ said with a grin, and ignored the heat in his cheeks when Pope threw his head back and laughed.
Relationships: JJ/Pope (Outer Banks)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	1. young dumb & broke

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of drabbles from my mayward song prompts. Short n sweet and soooo fluffy lmao  
> Title is from To Noise Making (Sing) by Hozier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from an anon on tumblr: For the song prompts, how about Young Dumb & Broke by Khalid?

The heavy sound of base pounded between JJ’s ears like a second heartbeat. 

Someone had brought a pretty hardcore speaker out to the boneyard, and it had drawn in, admittedly, a stupidly large amount of people to the party. JJ didn’t mind. Coupled with the music, the jostling crowd, and the distant sound of the hissing of waves as they crashed against the seashore a few feet away-- JJ found himself simply engulfed in the hazy, pleasant buzz of noise. 

That joint he’d smoked earlier was helping with that pleasant feeling, though. 

They never got to do this. Not with all the treasure hunting and drama and literal _murder_ happening all around them. It seemed to JJ like the minute summer started the world just-- shifted. And not for the better. And that fucking _sucked_. 

But, this was how normal teenage summers were supposed to happen, right? Getting shitfaced at parties, dancing with your friends, having _fun._ Personally, JJ thought it felt fucking _great_ to just let his thoughts wander wherever they damn well pleased. And tonight? Tonight his thoughts -- and his eyes, apparently -- were wandering over to Pope. 

His friend was dancing within the throngs of people, grinning like a fool and taking hefty sips from his own red solo cup. His snapback was on backwards, his shirt unbuttoned all the way to deal with the summer heat. JJ couldn’t help but stare at the way Pope’s throat bobbed as he took a sip, almost captivated by the movement. JJ kinda wanted to kiss that spot over and over. 

Pope caught him staring, grin brighter than the sun, and beckoned him over. Helpless to do anything else, JJ went. 

“Whatcha doing?” Pope asked as JJ shuffled up in the sand, and even in the dim light of the sunset, JJ could see Pope’s smile clear as day. 

“Admiring the view.” JJ said with a grin, and ignored the heat in his cheeks when Pope threw his head back and laughed. 

“You’re stupid,” Pope told him, and tugged JJ in by the wrist so they could dance together among the jostle of bodies and sound. 

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, and Pope snorted. And in that moment, JJ decided-- _fuck_ _it_. “But I think you like my kind of stupid.” 

In the chaotic movement of the boneyard all around them, nobody but JJ could see how inexplicably fond Pope’s eyes were. His hand was a warm weight within JJ’s own, and when JJ looked, Pope was grinning at him with a glint in his eye. It sounded like teasing, but it felt like a _promise._

“Yeah,” Pope said, before he was pressing a kiss on JJ’s jaw that made something startle and flutter in his stomach. “I think you might be right.” 


	2. appreciated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous on tumblr: Appreciated by Rixton

The warm light emanating from inside the chateau was a welcome sight as Pope trudged his way up the yard. His shoulders hugged close to his ears, arms crossed tightly in front of him, and his head hung low. 

From the moment Pope had woken up that morning, he could tell that it was going to be rough. His head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than staring at the middle distance. The thought of school and doing homework made him want to bash his head against a wall, but he did it anyway, despite how miserable he felt. He couldn’t even find _joy_ in the interesting stuff he was learning about. His mind simply wouldn’t let him. 

Pope didn’t get these days often, but when he did, simply _moving_ around felt like a chore. It didn’t matter if it was raining or the sun was shining, like it was today. It didn’t matter. The yellow of the setting sun at his back still felt-- _dreary_. 

By the time the day was done, all Pope wanted to do was curl up in a ball surrounded by the noise of his friend’s laughter and warmth and ride the shitty feeling out. And as he approached the screen door, Pope suddenly realized that with the soft light came a spiced, savory smell, like something straight out of his mom’s kitchen. 

He tugged open the door and was greeted with the sound of laughter and warmth. 

John B, Kie, and JJ were all caught in the middle of what seemed to be an intense game of paper football at the kitchen table, the sound of Kiara’s playlists filling up the empty space like an old friend. Back in the kitchen, a large metal soup pot sat patiently on the stove. 

Pope didn’t join in on the game, simply slid into the space beside JJ and watched from the side. The others didn’t push him, just simply shifted to make room with a kind smile sent his way before they resumed the game. When it wasn’t his turn, JJ slipped his hand into Pope’s and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, and Pope felt some of the tension that had been building up inside him ease some. 

After the game was done -- Kiara won -- and everyone moved to their respective corners of the chateau for the evening, JJ placed a warm bowl in Pope’s lap as he settled down beside him on the couch. 

“What’s this?” Pope asked as he took it. 

“This morning you seemed kind of off,” JJ said, and gestured vaguely at the bowl. “I could tell you were having a shitty day, so.” 

Pope blinked in surprise as he realized it was clam chowder-- one of his favorites growing up. He looked up at JJ incredulously. “You _made_ this?”

JJ’s ears went as red as a cherry. “I might’ve asked your mom what your favorite food was, and she brought it over.”

Pope’s smile came slow. “You did that for me?” 

“You do so much for everyone,” JJ shrugged, even as face turned pink to match his ears. “I just wanted to do something nice for you for a change, is all.” He suddenly looked nervous. “Is-- is that okay?” 

Pope silenced JJ’s worry with a kiss. One of those long and slow ones that takes your breath away a little when you’re done. One that lingers, and fills you with such a simple feeling of peace and safety it’s like nothing else matters more. One that feels like _home_. 

“It’s perfect,” Pope whispered, and he felt JJ’s smile of relief against his cheek. “Thank you.” 

“No problem,” JJ answered with another quick kiss to his cheek before he got himself nice and comfortable pressed against Pope’s side. “Wanna listen to that weird podcast you like?” 

“True Crime Fan Club is not _weird_ ,” Pope huffed in protest, but he was smiling, even if it was a small one, as he nodded. 

They spent the rest of the night curled up next to each other on the couch, heads pressed together as JJ had one earbud and Pope had the other. At some point, JJ laced their fingers together and pressed a warm kiss to the back of Pope’s hand, and with that, Pope felt the heavy weight of the day finally fall from his shoulders.


	3. stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From anonymous on tumblr: for the song prompt, here's two: stay by gracie abrams and finally // beautiful stranger by halsey 
> 
> This is technically a two parter. The next chapter will connect to this storyline

The day they broke apart, it was raining. 

Thunder began to rumble when they started to argue. They argued over what they always argued over-- the gold. JJ still wanted it, despite the fact that it had cost John B and Sarah their lives. It was the only way JJ could think of to honor them, as stupid as that sounds now. He couldn’t let Ward get away with it. If he let it go, then the kooks would get everything, and the pogues would get nothing. JJ couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let his best friend’s sacrifice be for fucking _nothing_. 

It was a simple affair, really. JJ wanted to go after the gold. Pope didn’t. He had a rescheduled scholarship interview to think about, after all. 

Rain stung against his skin when Pope said that. Of course he knew Pope had another interview coming. Of course he was happy for Pope to have a second chance at freedom, a second chance at a happy, successful life. Of course he _knew_ . He just thought-- _well_. 

He thought that-- after everything, everything they’d fought, laughed, and cried over-- after everything they’d been through _together_ \-- he thought that maybe Pope would want to stay. 

Pope insisted that they needed to give up the treasure hunting nonsense and let the gold go. _Bury it in the past_ , JJ thought bitterly, like the two empty coffins they’d put in the dirt not but a week ago. 

A small part of JJ knew that Pope was right. A big part of JJ was lost and grieving and fucking _furious_. 

Lightning danced over a raging ocean when JJ lost it. It was selfish of him, he knows. But JJ had always been a little bit stupid when it comes to the big picture. That scholarship meant everything to Pope, and he’d almost lost his chance once. Now that he had it again, he wasn’t going to let it slip past him. JJ knew that. 

Pope had a chance to get away, and he was taking it. But in that moment, JJ hated him for it. 

Cold water slid down JJ’s spine as Pope walked away for the last time. He hoped the rainwater would have extinguished the misplaced rage and grief in his heart. Hoped it would have cooled the fury burning in his chest, the stubbornness forcing his fingers into fists. Impossibly, JJ hoped the storm would have let him see _reason_. 

It didn’t. 

The day Pope left for DC, the sun was shining. He packed up all of his things into three suitcases, loaded them into the car, and left. Kiara rode with him to the airport to say goodbye. JJ spent the day surfing. 

He spent the night drinking alone. 

The day the bank takes the chateau, it drizzles. The day he burns the rest of John B’s things, it pours. The day Heyward offers him a job and a place to stay, it’s a cloudy, mute morning. The day Kiara tells him he should give Pope a call, it _hails_. 

She does that a lot. Insist that he should reach out. He never listens. Pride is an evil, spiteful thing, and it’s got its claws dug into his heart so deep JJ thinks it might be the only thing holding his heart together in the first place. 

He doesn’t tell Kie that, but JJ thinks she might know anyway. 

This goes on for months. Kie insists he should give Pope a call. JJ never does.

He wants to, though. 

It comes slow and small, this wanting. It starts in his chest, slips right between the bloody claws of pride and makes a home in the scar tissues on his heart. It begins to grow, and grow, and grow until there’s a little flower blooming there-- right in the remnants of the only friendship he didn’t want to shatter. And _oh_ , this little flower hurts in it’s own right. It makes him ache in a new kind of way. A way that makes him want to reach out. A way that makes him want to mend, makes him want to heal. 

He thinks of reasons why he should. In the end, he comes up with only four. 

Because he’s selfish. Because he’s tired. Because he’s _sorry_. Because it’s raining. 

The day he calls Pope, the sun shines, and that flower _blooms_.


	4. finally // beautiful stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From anonymous on tumblr: for the song prompt, here's two: stay by gracie abrams and finally // beautiful stranger by halsey

The drive back to the outer banks is as eye opening as it is nostalgic. 

The sun is as yellow as Pope remembers, maybe a little less vibrant than it was in his youth, but still bright nonetheless. The drive makes his eyes tired, and the sunlight bouncing off the ocean in the distance catches in his rearview mirror on occasion, making him squint. He doesn’t mind, though. The waves are still just as beautiful as they were when he was a kid. 

The poverty of his hometown is clearer to him, now. Pope thinks it’s a little funny, how _idyllic_ childhood makes the world seem. Money doesn’t matter so much when you're a kid, even when it should. But childhood is meant to be spent not worrying about the adult world. When you’re a kid, you’re supposed to worry about spaceships and dragons, not when your next meal would be. 

At least, for normal kids, anyway. 

The pogues weren’t like that. It seemed like worry and fear followed after them wherever they went. It was just a part of the life. They were so caught up running from beatings and kooks and security guards, they didn’t have much time for imagination. Sure, they still had dreams, but not about dragons. They dreamed of second chances. Second chances to start over and dump the shitty cards they’d been dealt. 

The pogues already knew that dragons didn’t exist because they had real monsters to worry about. 

Maybe that’s why they all latched onto the idea of the gold so hard, Pope thinks as he pulls into the parking lot of the wreck. Just for a chance to use their imaginations and act like _normal_ _kids_ , for once. 

Kiara is waiting for him in the lot. Leaned up against the side of her Honda Civic -- which has more bumper stickers plastered on it than it does actual _bumper_ \-- sucking on the straw of a pink looking drink she must’ve got on the ride down, because there’s no way in hell Pope’s mom wouldn’t have heard about a new Starbucks on the cut and told him _immediately_. 

“Heya, stranger,” Kie smiles wide when he steps out of the car, and Pope’s heart trips over itself a little at the sight. _Fuck_ , he’s missed her. 

“Hey yourself,” he says before striding over and pulling her into a spinning hug that makes both of them laugh. The familiarity of the motion makes something warm settle in Pope’s chest, and he sets her back down with a smile. “How have you been?” 

“Good!” Kie says cheerfully, before posing against her bumper like she might for the cover of vogue. “Cali’s been good to me, can’t you tell?”

He can tell. The California sun has made her tan skin glow, and the many flowering tattoos she’s got on her forearms spill out of her shirt sleeves like they’ve always belonged there. Her curls are still as wild as they’ve always been, pulled up into a bun and held back by a multicolored bandana. She looks as beautiful as ever. 

“I can definitely see that.” Pope agrees, and Kiara beams. 

Despite his delight at seeing her again, Pope finds himself glancing about the parking lot, looking for a familiar hint of blond hair, the seemingly endless amount of light in blue eyes, the bright hint of a smile. 

The sad thing is, deep down, Pope knows he’s not going to see him, standing there between the cars. He still looks anyway. 

“Is he coming?” Pope asks, and something in Kie’s smile falters, a bit. 

“C’mon,” she says, and slips her arm into his. She leads him towards the restaurant. “I had my mom reserve us our usual table. You can tell me all about DC and your fancy forensic program while we get a drink, okay?” 

Pope takes her avoidance for what it is. He keeps his smile up, even if he doesn’t want to so much anymore. “Okay.” 

They spend the next few hours drinking and catching up. Kiara tells him all about California and working with GreenPeace and the sun, and Pope tells her about GWU and the forensic program and the snow. 

Pope will gladly admit that it feels nice to come back again. The wreck is a place of comfort for both of them, filled with memories of laughter that haven’t been tainted and ruined by the world. It’s a little bubble of safety they find themselves in, and Pope takes more solace in it than he probably should. 

Despite this, he still feels like there’s a piece of that safety and comfort missing. The empty chair beside him serves as a reminder, and Pope tries his best to fight off the disappointment that his best friend is not there to fill it. 

Well. _Former_ best friend. Maybe. 

They haven’t talked since Pope left. At least, not really. The occasional phone call didn’t exactly clear the air like talking in person would. 

That fight had been so stupid in hindsight, but they had been pretty stupid as kids. It was part of their charm, Pope supposes, _but_. That still didn’t make him feel much better. 

The night was winding down when it happened. Both he and Kie were well and thoroughly on their way to being a little too drunk to drive, and were, admittedly, starting to turn a bit giggly. Kie saw him first. Pope saw the way her eyes widened, mouth stretching into a grin before Pope was whipping around to look, and there he was.

He stood, hands shoved into a pair of well worn jeans. His T-shirt showed a big logo for the mechanic’s place in town, meaning he’d probably just got off of work. A familiar shark tooth necklace still dangled around his neck. 

He looked tired, but healthy. A bit of stubble stood out against his cheeks, and his hair was longer than Pope remembered. There was a well worn looking hair tie wrapped around his wrist, probably for keeping his hair out of his face while he was at work. His eyes were just as blue as Pope remembered. 

“Hi,” JJ said. 

Kiara was up and out of her seat before Pope even had time to think. JJ’s face broke out into a smile as he embraced her tight. Pope stood quietly while Kie berated JJ for never calling her enough. JJ flushed, mumbling something about working full time and running errands for Heyward. Kie rolled her eyes at the excuse, but her smile was fond. 

Then Pope was standing in front of them, and he and JJ were face to face. 

“Hey,” Pope said with an honest smile. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” JJ huffed out a slight smile, but wouldn’t meet Pope’s eyes. Pope had never seen JJ look so _nervous_. “It’s been a while.” 

“I missed you.” Pope said. Because he didn’t know what else to say, and because it was the truth. 

There was an unbearable silence for a moment as they just stared at each other. Then-- 

“Look, Pope,” JJ started. “I’m sorry--,” and before he could say anything else Pope was pulling JJ into a hug that was maybe just a little too tight. JJ went still for a moment, then melted into Pope’s arms like he’d never wanted to be anywhere else. 

“Wanna have a drink?” Pope asked as they broke apart, gesturing back to their table. 

JJ’s smile was small, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Sure.”

The night went on, and JJ began to loosen. He smiled more, began to add his own witty commentary to the conversation, laughed at Pope’s bad jokes between sips of beer. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. 

And when JJ fully leaned into Pope’s side as they all burst into laughter, his smile so bright and his eyes so happy and blue, the only thing Pope could think was-- _finally_. 


	5. west coast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From dreamypope on tumblr: Hey! For the song fic requests :) west coast by imagine dragons (just because it kind of gives me jjpope vibes and it's wholesome) looking forward to your stuff, good luck!!

Sunlight slips through Pope’s fingers absentmindedly while he looks out the open van window. JJ watches the movement from the corner of his eye. The light flutters and dances across his skin like a moth is drawn in by the beauty of a flame, daunting and dangerous. 

There’s a certain kind of comfort to that fire. A beacon of hope in the cold and bitter night. One that offers safety, respite, and peace in exchange for a little more strength, if only JJ can hold on a little longer in the darkness. 

Pope catches him staring. 

“Eyes on the road, big guy,” he reminds with a lilting tease in his voice. JJ huffs a laugh and does what he’s told, turning his gaze back towards the shimmering white lines of the I-80. He does not let the comment go without some teasing of his own, however. 

“Can’t,” he says, peeking at Pope out of the corner of his eye with a small smirk. “You’re distracting me.” 

JJ still finds himself nervous to reach for it, even now. He’s snuffed that light out in the past-- on accident and on purpose-- with desperate cries and bloody knuckles. He’s had it ripped away from him, too. Had it stolen right from his grasp and been kicked into the dirt for even thinking he could have it in the first place. He’s been plunged into a darkness he didn’t know how to fight back against, and he’s drowned in it. 

It’s a little scary, if he’s honest. How Pope sits, unknowingly bright and impossibly beautiful, in the passenger seat beside him. It would be so easy to just reach over and take his hand, but old habits die hard. JJ’s learned that lesson one too many times to think he deserves that kind of hope.

“I’m distracting _you_?” Pope raises an eyebrow, which makes JJ’s insides twist in delight. His grin widens. 

“Mhm,” JJ hums, and Pope turns to look at him, bemused by his antics. 

“Well stop being distracted,” he says, and JJ just barely resists rolling his eyes, “we’ve still got a long way to go.” 

“How much longer till we get to the hotel?” 

“Nine more hours.” 

“Oh my _god_ ,” JJ groans, letting his head fall back on the headrest. Out of the corner of his eye JJ can see Pope’s smile. It's one of those smiles that comes sweet and slow, the kind that makes JJ’s stomach flutter like a school boy’s still to this day, even after all this time. 

_Maybe_ , he thinks, and the thought comes softly, like a caress from the wind. Maybe it’s not so bad to ask for what he wants. _Just this once._

“I think you should keep distracting me,” JJ says, shooting him a cheeky grin as he rights himself in the driver’s seat. 

“And I think you should keep your eyes on the road,” Pope hums, lips tugging upwards even as he turns his gaze back out the window, and JJ knows he’s almost won. 

“I betcha I can multitask,” JJ says, and puts his hand out on the centre console, palm up, his own rings shimmering in the afternoon sun. Pope’s eyes catch in the way the silver bounces off the ceiling, dancing to and fro whenever they hit a bump on the interstate. It reminded JJ of amber and honey. “I’ll keep my eyes on the road, I swear.”

“Promise you won’t kill us?” Pope asks. His hand is hovering over JJ’s like he might refuse. His fingers twitch, and JJ resists the urge to snatch Pope’s hand up before he can slip away. Instead, he lets his hand lay still. 

Instead, he waits. Patient, palm up. 

An open invitation. A quiet plea.

“Promise I won’t kill us. Maybe.” JJ replies, and that darkness feels like its lifetimes away, washed clean by the love that swells inside JJ’s lungs at the warmth in Pope’s smile.

In the end, if a little bit of pain is what led him here-- driving in this old Volkswagen across the country, music dancing on the wind, watching the way the band around Pope’s ring finger glows like copper and gold in the afternoon sun? JJ thinks he’d take on that burn willingly.

With a sigh and a fond shake of his head, Pope twines their fingers together. Their rings meet with a soft _click_ , and JJ’s heart soars.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feel free to come say hi on [tumblr!](https://johnbbutmakeitace.tumblr.com/)


End file.
